


I Am Your Shadow

by ThePlatypusPrincess



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, Retelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-20 15:18:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4792418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePlatypusPrincess/pseuds/ThePlatypusPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fall the Ravenstag reminisces about its life with Hannibal as it searches for someone else to attach to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's Always Prettiest After the Fall

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write something from the Ravenstag's point of view for a while now. The chapter titles are inspired by various songs that I like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is inspired by "The Devil's Carnival: Alleluia."

When did it start? 

How did it end?

Would it ever really finish?

Did he ever have a chance?

I asked myself all of these questions as I stood on the edge of the cliff. The sea air ruffled the black feathers around my neck and chest. It felt soothing after such a stabbing pain. The waves had already erased where they had fallen. I closed my eyes and let out a wail, echoing the wind’s lament. I didn’t care if it carried for miles. I hoped that Crawford would hear it. I hoped that it would send shivers down the spines of Alana Bloom and Margot Verger. I hoped it would stop Chilton’s heart dead in his fried chest. 

I peered over the edge of the rock in the sea. There was always that small chance for another…

I turned my face north and dropped onto the water. I knew that I wouldn’t sink. After all, did I even exist? To anyone trying to peer through the fog, I would appear a strange sight, a disjointed stag form walking on the waves, climbing each breach like a mountain. But it was the quickest way. I could easily find my way back to Baltimore. I could always find my way back to the other. The anger was still righteous in his heart.

I wanted him. 

I wanted him. 

I. Want. HIM.


	2. Who Are You Keeping and Who Are We Now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which the Ravenstag Meets Hannibal for the First Time

It had been snowing that night. I’d felt the cold only a little. There was no need for me to feel it, so why would I? The snow on the other hand…I love snow. It’s always so beautiful. I loved catching snowflakes on my tongue, long and strange as it was. 

I’d felt the call that night. It was faint at first; a tiny trickle like water dribbling between rocks. I followed it from my home on the battlefield. The trenches were rife with my kind. So many men devouring each other with bullets and teeth. I’d followed it like the rest of my kind across the ocean. We’d done it back in both world wars, why not now? 

The call was tiny. All I wanted to do was soothe its pain away. I didn’t know the forests of Eastern Europe. The spirits there hid from me like I was some kind of monster. Was I? I didn’t think so. I saw some strigoi that night. They are far worse than anything that I could possibly be; the poor misguided fools.   
I followed the mewling, gnawing call at my insides until I came across a cabin littered with war debris and the stench of old blood. Something was very wrong. I turned into the stag form I was comfortable with and waited for movement. My feathers stood on end. Fresh blood. Not a lot of it, but it was there. I sighed as a gust of wind blew through the glade. The high pitched screech would just blend in, announcing the coming storm. 

Two men came out of the shed behind the cabin carrying something warm, something soft, something that smelled delicious. I moved closer. How…interesting. I could wait. This was more fun than bouncing from soldier to soldier. 

Days passed with no movement from the cabin other than smoke from the chimney. I made a space for myself in the trees as the storm moved in. There were at least four humans in there. I could smell them. 

I was dozing one fine morning (I don’t much like sunlight that much) when there was a commotion from inside the log building. I snapped myself awake and hid myself further into the trees as a small boy came barreling out of the cabin. I didn’t know whether he could even see, his eyes were so streaming and steaming. Three men came out behind him, armed to the teeth. 

“All for a boy?” I asked myself. How…horrid. No. I knew that humans were depraved and unintelligent when it came to children, but this was beyond ridiculous. He was a child. I turned into my normal skeletal self and followed their progress through the trees. I dropped down between them and screamed at the top of my lungs. The men scrambled backwards, disbelief on their faces as they hurried back to the cabin. I spat in disgust. Two had wet themselves. 

The boy lay face-down in the snow, his brown hair turning white with snow. My spindly fingers gently lifted the boy into my arms. He was warm and cold all at the same time. I doubted that this was good for a human. I shushed his fitful crying and smiled the best that I could. I didn’t look like others of my kind, pale with hanging bits of flesh from their faces. My skin was still full and black as night. I still had my wits about me, even after the decades and centuries of my existence. My feathers still had their luster and sheen from when I’d first consumed human on the mountain so many years ago. The boy’s arms wrapped around my neck and I froze. How could he seek comfort from something like me? 

I made a nest in the snow and settled him in it, fluffing up my feathers to keep him warm against the wind. The call throbbed like a heartbeat from this little thing that grasped my feathers like he would his mother’s silks. I nuzzled him closer until he was in the crook of my neck. He would be safe there. Safe and warm. The call intensified as his heartbeat slowed. I melted into his consciousness and made myself his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title came from the song "Fair Game" from "Alleluia."


	3. We're Gonna Play In The Dark 'Til It's Golden Again

He lay down next to the formaldehyde filled tank of bodies as his latest victim struggled against the steel doors. He had grown so much in just a few short years. I nosed his face and he scratched between my eyes affectionately. Yes, he would be alright. Only one more man to go. 

The inspector was pounding on the door to the chamber. I looked up and nudged my charge. He scowled but kept his composure, wiping the offending liquid from his lab coat. I smiled and blended in with the shadows. My child couldn’t get caught; not while I was having so much fun. He talked with the inspector using words that I still didn’t understand. I knew English well enough, and feelings when he cared to share them, but beyond that I knew nothing. Lithuanian and French were beyond my comprehension. 

He seemed to be talking his way out of everything. What a clever boy I had found. How sweet. 

His aunt seemed to share my sentiments. A strange woman, but an interesting one to be sure. I watched as he continued to corner his quarry. It took months for them all to reach the boy. My heart, or what was left of it, went out to him and his quest. His madness fueled his fire. It was chaos incarnate. 

I perched on the suit of samurai armor in the corner. I loved the way that the tiny squares of leather and metal felt against my skin. It was warm and sturdy yet moldable. Hannibal, for that was the boy’s name, was lying on the floor near his aunt, the scent of incense and candles in the air. I stretched out near the back wall in front of the armor. Everything was warm and peaceful. I couldn’t follow the conversation, but I could feel it. The boy’s emotions called out and his mind was furious. Something was incredibly wrong, but he was genuinely happy about it. 

As his aunt dozed, he looked toward me. His hand outstretched, crooking in a beckoning motion. I lay down next to him. He poured warm water over my neck and scratched absently. 

“One more, my raven. One more. I can do it.”

I nodded, eyes half shut. His aunt stirred the water and Hannibal put his hand on the ground near my face. 

“I shouldn’t talk to you in front of people. They’ll think I’m a little crazy.” 

I rested my hand on his hip. His mind was in tatters. Hopefully it wouldn’t last for too long. I would like to have my boy back. 

-

He sat at the edge of the deck of the filthy boat. I stayed near him, clawing the timbers to keep myself upright. I didn’t much like water vessels. True, the water wouldn’t harm me, but I still disliked the rocking motion. Hannibal’s eyes were fixed on the spot where Murasaki had flung herself from the deck. The sirens would be starting any moment now. The boat was beginning to list to one side. I let out a shriek to catch his attention. His head snapped up and I saw the whites of his eyes. He was lost. I held out a hand, waiting for him to take the bait. He stared at me as if seeing me for the first time. Disgust, fear, and loathing flickered across his face as he took me in. My hand lowered on its own accord. He stormed into the cabin. 

I looked out onto the dark water, contemplating my short time as his shadow. I was going to miss him…so much; oddly so for such a short time. 

Suddenly a strong arm wrapped itself under my shoulders and I found myself in the icy river. A hot blast of air, oil, and machinery exploded above the surface. I gripped the human as he panted next to me. He flashed me a roguish smile and pointed at the shore. 

“Shall we?” 

-  
I pulled a warm blanket over me as the train picked up momentum. Hannibal sat opposite, his head resting against the glass. He smiled at the countryside. 

“Would you show me around your country when we get back, Raven?” His voice was sleepy and childlike. I stretched, yawning. He looked at me like a puppy wanting a treat. I snorted and nodded. 

“It please?” I asked.

“It would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is inspired by The Wanted's "Chasing the Sun."


	4. We're One and We're Twain, Now Let's Play a Game

The human boy was no longer a boy. That much was certain as he sat outside the operating room, his arms drenched in crimson up to his elbows. His head drooped in exhaustion. I began licking the liquid from his arms. He barked out a laugh.

“I didn’t want this, Raven. I didn’t want this.”

I looked up, wiping my mouth with overlong fingers.

He smiled sadly. “Didn’t we do this so that I could save lives?” 

I shrugged. “You save. You kill. You both,” I croaked. 

“Yes, but I don’t want to kill when I don’t have to.” He hung his head. “He didn’t fit my…sensibilities.” 

I nodded and continued my snacking on his arm. “We lose.”

“No.”

I cocked my head to the side. “No?”

He shook his head. “I’m better at killing than healing, at least when it comes to the body.” He looked down at the hand that I wasn’t busy cleaning, dripping and glistening in the harsh artificial light. “What about the mind?” 

I tapped his forehead. “Annibal do what Annibal do.”

He looked at me, his face pensive. “You certainly aren’t built for eloquence.”

I smiled. “Not physically,” I thought. 

Hannibal looked up at the door as another surgeon exited, his face spattered in even more blood than my boy’s. The older man sighed and shook his head. 

“Organs were harvested nicely. Shame, though. He was a strong man. Should have lived for a few more decades.”

Hannibal cringed almost imperceptibly by anyone who didn’t know him. He looked away from the surgeon and gingerly peeled off the gloves. I snorted, annoyed. What a waste of perfectly good blood. 

-

The young doctor stood in his kitchen, nose deep in a cookbook he’d found and brow still creased in frustration. He couldn’t find a recipe. Never a good sign. The death earlier had genuinely shaken him. I looked around the shelves and suddenly had a truly horrible idea. 

I snuffled around a few books until I found one that he rarely used; an old baking manual he’d found in a shop a few years before. Gently gripping things wasn’t my strong suit on account of the overly long fingers made for slashing and grabbing rather than delicate pinching, so I prodded the book until it fell with a slap to the floor. Hannibal lurched out of his scrutiny of another book and eyed me with an annoyed raised eyebrow. 

“What are you doing, Raven?”

I cooed and snuffled around his lower cabinets until I found a large mixing bowl. It, too, fell to the ground with a metallic clang. Spoons soon followed along with measuring cups. I gripped everything in my teeth and put them all on the spotless counter. Hannibal moved away from his spot near the refrigerator and slowly made his way to me. 

“Raven-“ 

I gripped the flour clumsily with the overly long fingers and set it on the dark granite with a fwump. Hannibal rubbed an eye and stared at me like I’d suddenly changed colors and quacked like a duck. I slowly began measuring flour, sugar, and eggs into the bowl with milk. Hannibal bristled and reached for the measuring cups. I shrieked at him and snatched them closer. 

“Raven, what’s gotten into you?” 

I gripped the long handled spoon, purposefully the wrong one for the job, and began sloppily whisking away at the cupcake mixture. My boy flinched visibly at each spot of batter that landed on his clean surfaces. The spoon stopped and I stuck my fingers into the batter. That was the last straw for my doctor. 

“Raven, I swear…”

I lifted one finger out of the bowl and licked it, enjoying the taste. Hannibal looked as if I had insulted the Queen of England. I grinned slyly and jerked the bowl towards the edge. He raised a hand.

“Raven, don’t you dare.”

I looked at the mess around me and began licking the counter. Hannibal wrung his hands. 

“Why in the world are you licking the counter?”

I looked up at him and began inching the bowl closer and closer to the edge, never breaking eye contact with my boy. He seethed at me. 

“Don’t you-“

The bowl fell to the floor with a clatter, splattering my leg feathers and everything else with cupcake mix. I looked down at myself, admiring the new white paint job and began licking the batter away. Hannibal gave a groan and slid down the counter, losing his composure completely. I snorted and projected my thoughts out loud.

“If a little spilled bowl of cupcake batter is enough to frazzle you, it might me time to get a new job.”

He glared at me. “Oh really? What would you propose I do?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. You like minds.” I picked up a handful of batter from the floor and licked it. “Annibal do Annibal,” I said aloud. 

He glared at me as if I’d just put feathers in his flour. “Fine. Fine. I’ll look for something new. Just…never do that again. I hate the mess.”

I raised an eyebrow and shrugged, continuing to lick the batter away. It was sticky sweet and lovely, almost like blood but with a much less metallic harshness. Hannibal picked me up and carried me to the large bathroom, dumping me into the tub. I screeched at him as he turned the shower head on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This title was inspired by "Beautiful Stranger" From "The Devil's Carnival."


	5. Who Are You and Where Are You From? We Don't Like When Visitors Come.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter one Miriam Lass.

The blonde woman was a cute little rag doll in my boy’s arms. She’d gotten close. Too close. Much too close. Hannibal looked to me and shrugged as he hauled her into the back room. 

He sat down at the desk, shuffling the sketches and looking at me for guidance. I shrugged and went to go pick up his shoes from where he’d put them on the high shelf.   
“Did I do the right thing?” he asked. His eyes still sparkled with the old mischief, but held much more wisdom now than ever. I was surprised that he still asked for my opinion. I hummed a snatch of a song in Japanese and set his shoes down. 

“Close,” was my only reply. “Too close.”

He smiled that slow, steady smile of his; more of a triumphant smirk than the real genuine article. I sat near his fireplace and nudged at a loose brick.

“We could use her, you know. She is a star pupil in the world of the FBI.” He leaned against the back of the chair, his hand resting just beneath his chin. “You could always play with her. You’re good at that.” 

I rested my head on the desk, staring at the door to the back room. She presented too much of a conundrum.

“What we do now?” I asked, tapping my overlong claws on the mahogany surface. “I no want to play wiv her.” 

Hannibal crossed his arms and glared at the door with me. “I’ll keep her. She may prove useful still.” He smiled to himself. “She’s incredibly smart, Raven. She found me by herself.”   
I blinked. He almost sounded...proud? My back feathers fluffed up. At least my boy was proving to be a clever predator. 

“We eat?” I asked. I was starving again. The last wound man was still waiting for me in the refrigerator. Hannibal smiled at me and made his way to the door. 

“When we get home, we can eat. Be patient, Raven.”

I scowled. “Not made fer patience.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title was inspired by "Trespassing" by Adam Lambert.


	6. I'm So Sincere There's No Need to Tear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet a Jack.

The broad, tower of a man that walked into the office gave off an aura of absolute command. My boy was bristling underneath his pale blue suit. I smiled and came out into the open as this Jack human could not see me. It was exhilarating, like watching two wolves circling each other for dominance. 

Hannibal smiled at the Jack human with a grin that could have disarmed even the most cynical of investigators. I could almost see the slump of relief in his shoulders, but he didn’t move. I’d taught him well. 

I stood behind the Jack human as he rifled through my boy’s sketches. The man praised my boy’s talents, causing my feathers to stand on end. My boy was peacocking to the nth degree. If there was one thing that he enjoyed above all else, it was someone recognizing his talents. He smiled at the prospect of a new puzzle to solve; this new brain to play with. 

Jack human left and my boy sat down at his desk, turning the scalpel over and over in his fingers. I perched on one of the leather backed chairs.

“You take job?” I asked, kneading the surface between my claws. Hannibal grinned. 

“Yes, Raven. I’ll take it.” He pressed his index fingers to his lips. “He sounds like a very fascinating boy, this Will.” 

I smiled. “We play with?” 

He stood, taking the keys from his drawer. “For a while. Let’s see if he is as fun as Crawford says he is.” 

“Do we like Jack human?” 

He smiled. “I think we do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title inspired by "Trust Me" from "The Devil's Carnival."


	7. There Are Few Who Deny At What I Do I Am The Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stag's head and stag's inside head.

My first impression of Will Graham was that he was the most adorable dog-like human I’d ever had the pleasure to encounter. His physical appearance wasn’t anything special; your sort of run of the mill mildly attractive male. But his mind...gods above his mind was something precious. I could feel my boy’s heart pumping just being in the same room with him. I could almost taste the fun we could have with his brain. 

They were talking about girls, Crawford, my boy, and the dog-like man; girls that all looked the same but were not. It was maddening. I had a hard enough time differentiating people’s faces and now something like this had to happen. This Shrike human would have to be stopped, not for the killing of the girls, but for the killing of my brain. 

My boy went through the motions of his craft, homing in on his prey and pinning it to a flattering bust of myself. I watched him work, occasionally dipping my claw into the dripping fluids in order to grab a quick snack. Hannibal noticed my meticulous cleaning as he worked on removing the lungs for a quick late night snack. He smiled. 

“Do you approve?” he asked, elbows deep into the girl’s chest cavity. I sniffed and felt my mouth start to water.

“Pretty,” I muttered, running my long fingers over the stolen stag’s antlers as he worked. “Pretty stag. Pretty girl. Pretty place. Pretty good.” 

Hannibal beamed. If he’d had feathers, they would have been sticking up like a peacock’s. My stomach rumbled. 

“We’ll eat her soon,” my boy promised, rubbing the back of my head with his bloodsoaked plastic gloves. I grimaced. I loved the touch. Hated the plastic. It was so unnatural. He tenderly wrapped up the lungs in a piece of butcher’s paper and lowered it into a small cooler. I took one last look at the display and followed him to the waiting car. 

Hannibal looked at me out of the corner of his eye as I settled into the passenger’s side. “What do you think about this Will Graham?”

I shrugged. “Seems nice. Nice boy. Smells of dog. Lots of dogs. Puppy-man.” 

My boy snorted. “Interesting description, but no less eloquent than I’m used to.” He fell silent for a while. “How perceptive is he?”

I reached out across the miles, feeling my way to the dog-like human. “Very.” I licked a speck of blood off of my feathers. “I visit when they find.” 

\--

The dog-like human was bristling with anger at what he called the “field kabuki.” Inwardly, I felt proud. My boy had gotten his point across. The dog-like human’s mind was a bag of raw electricity. I wanted to hold it in my hands and see how far it could spark. He stared blankly at the wall for a while before making his way toward the shower with a staggering lurch. The water ran down his face and hair as he mulled over the events of the day. I reached out to touch the jumbled, tangled ball of yarn and, surprisingly, it grabbed back. His mind’s eye opened wide and I made myself presentable in a friendlier form. He stared for a moment before yanking himself back and going to bed.

I smiled. My boy was going to love this human. I could sense it deep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title inspired by "Jack's Lament" by Danny Elfman.


End file.
